


this time tomorrow (where will we be)

by liketheroad



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-17 21:56:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketheroad/pseuds/liketheroad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Arthur and Dom go on a journey of healing and discovery, and Eames is waiting for a train.  <i>Darjeeling Limited</i> inspired post-inception fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this time tomorrow (where will we be)

**Hotel Chevalier**

Arthur orders a grilled cheese sandwich and chocolate croissant in perfect French.

Because he can.

He sits on the bed in a yellow bathrobe that matches the walls of his hotel room, hands folded in his lap.

Waiting.

The phone beside him rings, and he picks it up, hoping this doesn’t mean the hotel kitchen is out of croissants.

That would be a disgrace, and then he’d have to get a new hotel room.

He likes this hotel room.

He’s been living it for over three months, after all.

“Hello, darling.”

It’s Eames.

He almost drops the phone, he’s so shaken.

It’s not fair that the sound of Eames’ voice alone can still do that to him.

“Hi,” he says when he can no longer stand the sound of nothing but Eames’ breathing on the other end of the line.

“I’m here.”

“What? Where?”

Maybe Eames is bluffing. Maybe he doesn’t really know where Arthur is.

Eames chuckles.

“In Paris. Just like you. I’ve already gotten the concierge to tell me your room number, but I thought you might appreciate the warning. I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

“I didn’t say you could come here,” Arthur protests, voice hard.

“30 minutes, Arthur.”

Eames hangs up.

Arthur gets up off the bed.

He has to take a shower.

\---

Eames knocks.

It’s been 30 minutes, almost down to the second.

He’s probably been standing out there for ages, just waiting to get the timing exactly right.

Arthur starts playing Piaf before he opens the door.

Eames smirks at him, just for a second, before he steps inside.

He’s carrying a mangled bunch of flowers. Arthur recognizes them; the same ones grow in front of the hotel.

Eames tries to kiss him.

Arthur allows him a brief hug instead.

He shuts the door, and Eames starts undoing the buttons of his coat.

It’s a great coat, long, charcoal grey, heavy wool, double breasted.

Arthur lets himself enjoy watching Eames take it off, just for a minute, and then turns away.

“What the fuck are you doing,” Eames asks immediately, voice carefully casual.

Arthur ignores the question, and goes to sit down on the bed.

Eames snoops through his stuff.

He notices Eames is chewing on a toothpick.

Arthur is still holding the flowers.

“How did you find me?” Professional curiosity alone demands he ask.

Eames smiles enigmatically.

“It was very difficult. But I suppose that was the point.”

Arthur wonders if that means Eames really has been looking for him this whole time, the way Arthur’s been afraid to hope he was.

Eames sits down in the chair by the window.

“You’ve been here for three months,” Eames says like it should mean something that he knows this.

Or maybe he’s just implying that he can’t believe Arthur has been foolish enough to sit still for this long.

“I like it here.”

Eames picks up a book and flips through it. It’s French poetry.

It was Mal’s.

Once.

But she gave to Arthur before she died, so he supposes it’s just his, now.

Eames puts the book down and comes to sit beside Arthur on the bed.

He looks at Arthur seriously.

“Don’t you think it’s time you went home?”

“I don’t have a home.”

His suits and his PASIV are in storage in Stockholm, but that’s about it.

“I suppose I meant home to Cobb.”

Arthur looks down at his knees.

“I haven’t spoken to him.”

Eames gets that pinched look in his eyes that has never meant anything good, not in all the years Arthur has known him.

“So is it just Cobb, or are you running away from me, too?”

Eames asks like he’s not sure Arthur considers him worth the bother of running from.

Arthur smiles.

“Mostly just you.”

\---

Eames gets up and goes into the bathroom.

Arthur follows him.

“Is that for me?” Eames asks, nodding towards the full bath.

Arthur nods.

Eames uses his toothbrush instead.

He tries to kiss Arthur again, once he’s finished.

Arthur lets him.

\---

Arthur takes the rest of Eames’ clothes off for him, pausing to kiss the parts of Eames’ skin he is slowly unveiling.

There are bruises all over Eames’ body.

Arthur nips at them, wondering where they came from.

He doesn’t ask.

He doesn’t ask if Eames has slept with anyone else, either.

He already knows the answer.

“If we shag, I’m going to feel like utter shite tomorrow,” Eames informs him, once he’s already naked and on top of Arthur.

“I’m okay with that,” Arthur says, even though he’s not, not really.

Eames makes a soft sound, and buries his head in Arthur’s neck.

“Do you want to see my view of Pairs?”

\---

They don’t fuck.

Before Eames leaves, he takes Arthur’s face in his hands.

“I love you. I never hurt you on purpose.”

Arthur says, “I don’t care.”

Eames doesn’t call him a liar, but they both know he is one.

 

 

 **The Darjeeling Limited**

“Come on a trip with me.”

“What,” Arthur replies, his voice flat and incredulous in the dark.

It’s the middle of the night.

He hasn’t heard from Cobb in a year.

“Come on a trip with me,” Dom repeats. “I want us to see the world together.”

“Dom, we did that,” Arthur enunciates very carefully, so as not to be misunderstood. If Dom has started dreaming again, forgetting things, Arthur is going to kill something.

Maybe Dom.

“Don’t you remember? We’ve been on all seven continents together. At least twice.”

Antarctica was the worst. Arthur is never going back there, no matter how much you pay him.

“But that was for work,” Dom says, and, oh no, Arthur recognizes that tone.

It’s Dom’s “let’s be young men together, let’s be dreamers, Arthur,” tone.

He hasn’t heard it in years.

Not since Mal.

Or, more accurately, not since they were potheads in college.

God, that was a long time ago.

“What would this be for?” he asks finally, when he realizes Dom still hasn’t hung up, that he’s actually waiting for a response.

It’s Dom who doesn’t know how to answer this time.

“Dom--”

“I want us to be friends again, Arthur. I want you to forgive me.”

Arthur squeezes the bridge of his nose, summoning the strength not to hang up on him.

“I have forgiven you.”

For Mal. For inception. For all of it.

“Well then I want my friend back.”

“Listen, I--”

“Meet me in Darjeeling, next Wednesday. You remember the place.”

“I can’t just--”

“Please,” Dom says, and then he hangs up.

Arthur sighs, and starts packing a bag.

\---

The place in question is a tea shop. One of many, in Darjeeling, but this one is Arthur’s favorite.

They almost got it shot up, the last time they were there, but not quite.

Arthur is surprised they’re allowed back inside.

Dom must have smoothed things over when he arrived, or maybe they don’t remember. Either way, he’s happily ensconced in one of the back tables, waving at Arthur over his cup of tea when Arthur arrives.

Dom looks good.

Arthur tries to be happy for him.

Dom gets up when Arthur reaches the table.

They hug awkwardly.

It’s mostly awkward because Dom tries to hold on way longer than Arthur permits.

Dom smiles at him weakly.

Arthur gives in, and smiles back.

“What are we doing,” he asks, trying to sound something approaching enthusiastic.

Dom beams.

“Traveling. Seeing the places we stopped by, but never got to _experience_ before. All the places we went where you said you wished we could stay longer.”

He hands Arthur an itinerary.

It’s laminated.

It’s also very accurate.

“You remember all that?” he asks, surprised.

Dom squints.

Arthur guesses maybe he’s annoyed that he’s being underestimated.

He raises an eyebrow, and Dom opens his eyes normally.

“I remember everything,” he assures Arthur.

\---

They’re taking a train.

Arthur is surprised.

To say the least.

Dom rubs the back of his neck and looks like he’s about to make a speech.

Arthur knows all about how Dom feels about trains.

And catharsis.

“I get it,” he says softly.

“It’s a journey of healing and discovery,” Dom summarizes anyway.

Arthur puts his hand on Dom’s shoulder.

“Then let’s get started.”

\---

The itinerary says they’re going to Gangtok first.

It’s the first place Arthur met Eames.

Evidently Dom is not even _trying_ to be subtle.

It’s just as well.

He’s terrible at it.

\---

They get savory snacks and sweet lime from one of the train employees.

They drink in silence, sitting on opposite ends of their compartment.

When they’re done, Dom says,

“Let’s go get a couple of stiff drinks and smoke some cigarettes.”

It’s his best idea yet.

\---

“Who’s looking after the kids, by the way,” Arthur asks, once he’s drunk enough.

He still can’t believe Dom is willing to let them out of his sight for even a minute, never mind the month long journey of healing and discovery he has scheduled for them.

“Marie has them, they’re fine,” Dom says, sounding refreshingly devoid of the crushing guilt his voice was infused with whenever he used to talk about them, on the rare times Arthur could actually get him to.

“But, why would you--” bother.

“This is important, Arthur,” Dom says gravely.

Arthur clears his throat.

“Why?”

Dom squints.

“Because _you’re_ important.”

From the way Dom is looking at him, Arthur guesses that maybe he is.

\---

They stop in Gangtok and Arthur buys a power adapter and a pair of shoes he won’t wear.

He’s not much for shoes, lately.

He also stops Dom from buying a poisonous snake.

“Come on -- why would you even -- no.”

Dom looks disappointed.

They kneel by some statues for awhile.

Dom nudges Arthur with his shoulder.

Arthur nudges back.

\---

Dom tries to take him to the restaurant where he first introduced Arthur to Eames.

Arthur doesn’t let him.

\---

They go to Calcutta, next, and it takes a long time.

They stick their heads out of their compartment, blowing the smoke from their cigarettes out the window.

Dom squints into the dark, trying to make out something in the distance.

Arthur looks the other way.

The attendant who brought them their sweet lime and peanuts is smoking too.

Arthur wonders if she’d be interested with sleeping with him in the western style bathroom.

He comes back 20 minutes later, and Dom doesn’t ask him how it went.

It went fine, but she didn’t stop him from thinking about Eames.

Not even for a second.

On second thought, maybe it didn’t go fine at all.

\---

Dom is still carrying Mal’s totem.

He also appears to be using her luggage.

Arthur doesn’t comment on it until Dom tries to ask him about Eames.

“Have you talked to him?”

“Is that Mal’s watch, too? Dom, it’s a woman’s watch.”

He looks closer.

“It doesn’t even work anymore.”

Dom doesn’t ask about Eames again.

\---

Past Calcutta, Dom makes them climb a mountain.

Just a small one.

He hands Arthur a peacock feather.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”?

Dom squints, disappointed.

“You didn’t read the instructions?”

Arthur did not read the instructions.

“You blow on it, then we bury them.”

“This is stupid. Stop making me feel like an asshole for appropriating all this culture.”

“Spirituality belongs to everyone, Arthur,” Dom informs him loftily.

Dom has always been a bit of a douche.

It’s nice to remember that and have it be about something Arthur doesn’t want to shoot him over.

He blows on the stupid feather.

\---

Their train gets lost the next day.

Arthur didn’t even know that was possible.

Dom cannot stop repeating the phrase “ _we_ haven’t located _us_ **yet** ,” for the next 24 hours.

Arthur drinks cough medicine until he finds it endearing.

\---

Dom calls his kids every night, and Arthur listens to Dom’s side of their conversations, noting the change in Dom’s tone, the way he laughs and peppers his speech with endearments, calling both children sweetheart indiscriminately, smiling happily once he hangs up the phone.

Arthur is glad Dom gets to have this, gets to have children he can feel something about other than guilt and shame.

He doesn’t tell Dom so, but he hopes Dom knows anyway.

After Dom calls his kids, Arthur usually hacks into Eames’ voicemail and checks his messages.

He has a GPS tracker on Eames’ cellphone, and he uses his laptop to check that too, tracing the lines of where Eames has been in a given day with his finger.

At any given time, at least half a dozen different people might be trying to kill Eames.

Arthur is just looking out for him.

\---

They spend another week training through India, and then they take a helicopter to Mombasa.

They go to visit Yusuf.

Arthur assures Dom that if Eames is there, he’s going to shoot them both.

It’s an empty threat.

Not because he wouldn’t shoot them, but because he already knows Eames won’t be there.

They’re not going to see Eames for another two weeks.

Arthur knows the exact date and time.

Dom has Eames listed under “TBD” on the itinerary.

\---

From Mombasa, they catch a chartered plane to Italy.

Then they get on another train.

Dom asks, “Are we friends again, yet?”

Arthur closes his eyes.

“Ask me again when this is over.”

\---

Their train stops in Florence and they go to a MacDonald's.

Dom insists it’s because he is craving a hamburger, but Arthur knows it’s really because it’s the same where MacDonald's Arthur and Eames had their first kiss.

He hopes Dom doesn’t also know it’s the place where he sucked Eames off for the first time.

Either way, Arthur makes sure he doesn’t go into the bathroom.

\---

Arthur hasn’t showered in at least a week.

He doesn’t understand how Dom thinks he’d do that for anyone he didn’t already consider a friend.

He doesn’t understand how Dom thinks Arthur’d do it for _anyone_ other than him.

But then, Dom was always kind of an idiot.

\---

In Rome, they’re late for their train.

It’s already starting to leave without them by the time they get to the station.

Dom is struggling with Mal’s luggage, Arthur is waiting for him.

Dom looks up at Arthur, and then back down at the luggage.

They leave it behind, and run.

They catch the train.

\---

They spend three days in a chalet by the Alps.

They drink hot chocolate and go to the hot springs.

They go on another hike, but Dom doesn’t make them bury anything, this time.

He uses a tree branch as a walking stick, though. He waves it a lot for emphasis.

He keeps trying to get Arthur to talk about the shapes the clouds are making.

Arthur still doesn’t wear any shoes.

\---

They rent a Ducati 796, and spend a day winding around the back-roads amidst the mountain range.

Dom rides in front, and Arthur sits behind him, his arms wrapped around Dom’s waist.

\---

Dom has found weed, somewhere, and he rolls them a joint.

They get high in the jacuzzi in their hotel room.

“What if I told you we were going to go see Eames,” Dom says, handing the joint back to Arthur.

It’s almost cashed, but he takes one last toke, exhaling smoothly.

“I’d say I knew that already. Also, that you’re an idiot.”

Dom squints.

Arthur squints back.

Dom grins.

“When did you guess?”

Arthur rolls his eyes.

“Right away.”

“How?”

“It was in the itinerary.”

“No it wasn’t!”

“TBD,” Arthur scoffs.

“But that could mean anything!”

“Given how much detail you put into every other destination? No it couldn’t.”

He shakes his head.

“It’s like you’ve forgetten that I was your point man for half a decade, and that I’ve been your best friend for twice that long. In other words, you can’t keep secrets for shit.”

Dom looks a little rueful.

That is never a good sign.

“What is it?” Arthur demands, quite certain he doesn’t want to know.

Dom chews his lip, guiltily.

“Well, it’s just. You’re right. I can’t keep secrets.”

Which means, “He knows we’re coming.”

“We may have planned the whole thing together.”

Arthur seethes at him.

He closes his eyes.

“I’m going to hold this in for awhile.”

If he says anything else, he’s going to end up punching Dom in the face.

Repeatedly.

He gets out of the jacuzzi.

Dom doesn’t try and stop him.

\---

The next day, they get on another train.

They have more stops across Italy, then into France.

Everywhere Mal wanted to take Dom and Arthur, but couldn’t, because she died.

Everywhere they went, but never stopped long enough to see the beauty that surrounded them, because they were focused on the job, living out of shitty office space or warehouses, living in dreams.

They don’t talk much.

Dom tries sometimes, but Arthur mostly ignores him.

He starts wearing the complimentary slippers from their hotel in Vienna at all times.

\---

In Paris, Arthur makes an announcement.

“You’re a bigger idiot than I’ve realized if you don’t understand that you’ll always be my best friend.”

Dom just blinks at him in surprise, and Arthur sighs.

“That said, I’m shooting you in the kneecap if you pull this kind of shit with me again.”

Dom smiles at him appreciatively.

“I’ve always liked how mean you are.”

Arthur’s always liked how much of a douche Dom can be.

It really takes the pressure off.

He smiles back.

“Thanks. Me too.”

\---

They’re going to London.

Going to Eames.

Arthur falls asleep on the train.

When he wakes up, Dom has put his coat over Arthur’s chest, pillowed his head comfortably on Dom’s shoulder.

Arthur smiles, and pretends he’s still asleep, staying exactly where he is.

\---

Technically they were only together for a month.

There were lots of moments, half-starts and half-naked fumbles, before that, but the closest they came to calling what they had a relationship only lasted a month.

It was the worst month of Arthur’s life, because even though it was also the best, he spent the entire time waiting for Eames to leave.

After a month, he got tired of waiting, and did the leaving himself.

He’s been running ever since.

He hopes that now, at least, he’s running in the right direction.

\---

Eames picks them up at the train station.

He and Dom hug.

Arthur watches it happen with an admittedly petulant frown on his face.

Eames laughs at him.

They don’t so much as shake shakes in hello.

\---

Eames has a proper house, now.

When they were together, Eames was always telling Arthur about the house he wanted to buy for them - for Arthur to live in with him - but Arthur didn’t really think Eames meant it.

Still, the house matches Eames’ descriptions pretty well.

The front lawn is half torn up, and Eames explains he’s putting in flower beds as they walk inside the house.

He waves around a bit, gesturing to where the bathroom is and explaining that once they go upstairs, their rooms will be the first and second doors on the right, respectively.

“I gave Arthur the room with the better view, Dom. Apologies. But I’m sure you understand.”

Dom nods like he does.

Arthur wants in on the secret.

Dom pats him on the shoulder as they walk up the stairs and explains it to him.

“I’m not the one he’s trying to convince to stay.”

“He thinks a good view is going to convince me?” Arthur scoffs.

Dom turns Arthur around a little, peering up at Arthur, two steps above him.

His squint is one of concern.

“I guess he thinks every little bit helps.”

Arthur pushes at Dom a little, and they finish climbing the stairs.

\---

Arthur’s room really does have an incredibly gorgeous view.

\---

Eames makes them dinner.

It’s the best thing Arthur’s eaten in a month.

It’s so good he’s almost tempted to tell Eames so.

Almost.

Dom is appreciative enough for both of them.

Traitor.

\---

That first night at Eames’ house, Dom has a nightmare.

Arthur hears him shout in the dark, and he’s up and racing into Dom’s room before he’s even fully awake.

When he gets there, Dom is hunched over the bedside table, Mal’s top clattering against the hard surface.

He watches Dom start the top spinning, not breathing until it falls, and then watches him do it again, over and over.

He goes over to Dom and puts his hand over Dom’s shaking one.

Dom looks at him like he doesn’t quite remember who Arthur is, for a minute, but them recognition flashes in his eyes, and he smiles weakly.

“I guess I still have some healing to do.”

Arthur stays with him for the rest of the night.

\---

In the morning, Eames sees Arthur leaving Dom’s room.

His face twists unpleasantly.

“Well, I suppose I should have given Dom the room with the good view after all.”

Arthur says, “Shut up,” and kisses him.

Eames kisses him back.

Eames has always kissed Arthur back, no matter what.

It feels like it’s time for him to finally start believing that means something.

\---

Eames makes them breakfast.

Arthur looks down at the itinerary.

There’s nothing left on it.

He looks up at Dom.

Dom smiles.

“I’m leaving today. But maybe me and the kids can come for Christmas.”

Arthur looks at Eames.

It shouldn’t hurt so much to see Eames look so hopeful.

He takes Eames’ hand across the table, links their fingers together, and turns back to smile at Dom.

“We’ll be here,” Arthur says, and hopes Dom know that he means “thank you.”

\---

Before Dom leaves, he hands Arthur his passport.

He’d confiscated it after Arthur may have tried to give Dom the slip in Italy.

Arthur curls it in his fingers, watching the leather unfurl in his palm.

He hugs Dom good-bye, and he and Eames drive back home.

When they step inside, Arthur gives his passport to Eames.

Eames looks at him blankly.

“Why don’t you hold onto that for me, keep it wherever you keep yours.”

“Why?”

Arthur smiles.

“It’s safer for them to be together.”

THE END


End file.
